


Mundane

by Valeria2067



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bathing, Hair, Intimacy, M/M, New Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 15:09:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valeria2067/pseuds/Valeria2067
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So, you want us to do an experiment? Is that it? With intimacy? Sherlock, we’ve only just started out together.“</p><p>“It isn’t a test of your devotion, John. It’s merely a way to help me understand how our feelings for each other can affect even the most mundane experiences.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mundane

“So, you want us to do an experiment? Is that it? With intimacy? Sherlock, we’ve only just started out together, I don’t think it’s-“

Sherlock pulled John’s face close and stopped the end of that sentence with a soft, tender kiss.

Quite effective. Really, this intimate relationship brought with it advantages even Sherlock could not have imagined.

“It isn’t a test of your devotion, John. It’s merely a way to help me understand how my - our - feelings for each other can affect even the most mundane experiences.”

John pursed his lips for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. So, mundane. And we just pick blindly from the newspaper?”

“Exactly. Close your eyes, turn the page, let your finger point to a word.”

A little huff of laugh escaped John’s throat. “And what if the word I point to is ‘homicide’ or something?”

“Homicide hardly qualifies as mundane.”

“It does to you.”

Sherlock grinned. “Point taken. We’ll reserve the right to choose again in that case, shall we?”

“Right.” John sucked in a breath, closed his eyes, turned the page of the newspaper in front of him, and set down his finger.

The word he’d picked was shampoo.

“Huh. Well that’s easy enough. I’d actually been thinking of this for a while. Off you go, then. I’ll draw the bath.” John’s broad smile gave Sherlock a fluttering sensation in his abdomen. 

When he entered the room, naked, he found a steaming bathtub, several bottles of   shampoo grouped together on the floor, and John, shirtless, kneeling beside them. John held out a hand to steady him as Sherlock slipped into the almost-too-hot water.

“Should I submerge my head, first? To dampen my hair?”

“Shhhhh. My word. My experiment. I get to be in charge. You’re just here to …. collect data, right? So be quiet and relax. Or whatever you do that’s close to it.”

Eyes closed, Sherlock focused on the sensations around him.

_Warm water poured over my head_

_John’s blunt, strong fingers gently ruffling my damp hair_

_Water again, some trickling down my neck - John’s fingers brushing it away_

_Shivering. How am I shivering in a hot bath?_

_Scented shampoo - John’s - cool on my forehead and temples_

_John’s hands massaging my scalp, his fingers combing through the wet strands_

_Strong, sure fingers_

_Strong, safe hand cradling the back of my head_

_More water, not as warm, but not cold, soothing_

_The scent of John’s body, faint, but still there behind the shampoo_

_Humming. A folk song? Scottish? Can John sing?_

_I want to hear him sing. But only for me. I will make him sing for me._

_Fingers tugging harder, fisting in my hair, strong forearm behind my neck_

_Lips pressed against mine, pressing down, kissing_

_John_

_John_

_With me, here_

_Mine_

_  
_Later, dried off and wrapped in a red satin dressing gown (second-best; the blue one was in the laundry hamper), Sherlock lay in the bed with his clean and John-scented head against John’s shoulder.

John handed him the paper.

“Your turn, right?  You pick, and you’re in charge of this one.”

Sherlock smiled, closed his eyes, and turned the page. His finger lighted on a word near the bottom.

“Ha. Good luck, then,” John laughed.

Sherlock opened his eyes and found the word he’d chosen was ‘doughnut’ of all things.

Doughnut.

Hmmm.

Actually, the shape, the texture.

The conveniently-placed hole in the centre.

Yes. Not a problem.

Sherlock licked the corner of his mouth.

“Luck? Not necessary, John. Leave it to me. I have excellent taste in these matters, As do you, I’m sure.”


End file.
